You write me to let me know that your there,
Your paper, my skin,
Your pen has no ink,
Just my blood,
You write to me about your thoughts,

JUST STOP!

You endlessly torment me with every line you write to make a letter,
I don't need you anymore,
But you cling to me,
******* all the blood and life out of me before moving to your next victim,

The scars become deeper as your mind wanders,
Ensuring our bond is eternal,
My scars are the result of your love letters,
The leftovers of possibilities,

Your letters that scar my face will scare others,
The children ask,
I'll tell them that I was in a fight with my greatest enemy,
You my mind.

Guns scatter in my head,
They leave acknowledging that there is nothing left,
No ability to move on,
No reason to keep going,
They'll tell me that the guns will **** me,
I love the guns in my head,
They poison my mind with lead and destroy my thoughts,
But they keep on leaving,
Why do my saviours leave when I need them the most,
I'm going to bed,
The guns, pencils, razors, lighters, paper, glass, metal and knives have been locked away,
Out of reach of my infected mind,
I know how to get them,
I locked them up myself,
I beg for the guns to come back and fill my head with their bullets,
As I scream from the thought of unlocking the things,
Where are the guns,
No where,
No one can save me now,
I get out of my bed,
Unlock all my drawers and make a stage worthy event,
I prop a camera and start recording how I'm going to **** my infection inside my head.

Cold,
Hungry, Afraid of the other children stealing my lone possession,
My blanket,
My only protection from the bitter nights,

Another sleepless night,
Another oat in my empty stomach,
A man and woman walk in with a plate of food,
They search for a child to love,

I run with my weak legs towards them,
I face the children yelling,
“NO, NO” Scared of the children changing the adult’s minds,

I stop the other children from stealing my only hope, belief, future.
They laugh, thinking I’m cute,
The nuns take me out of the room away from the other children,

I sit with the adults in a white strange room,
All of my efforts of defense pay off as I am given the plate of food,
I have never tasted anything so warm, filling, replenishing,

They watch me shovel the food,
Thinking, pondering, whispering to one another,
They nod, smile at me
I never went back to that filthy room with the children,

I look into her eyes,
Now is the perfect time,
Underneath the stars blanketed by an oak tree,
Christmas lights covered in Japenese lantern shades hang from the branches,

They bring out the sparkle out in her eyes,
I look at her eating crackers,
I love her freckles and how they describe her personality,

I pull out my guitar and play a tune,
As I strum my song,
Our song,
I am certain I know what I am doing,

After I stare at her and her I,
I decide,
I put my guitar down gently on the grass,
I get out of my sitting position,
And go on one knee in front of her,

"Pardis Sarin, I realize that it's only been 3 months, but I have never in my entire life felt so certain of this choice  that I am about to make, and I love you so much and I want to be with you forever."
She begins to realize what I am doing,
She starts tearing up,
Her eyes sparkle even more intensely,
"Now that the cheesy corny parts over,
I have one single question to ask you."
.............
I pause the question,
I pull out the box,
"Will you Pardis Sarin,
be my apartment buddy?"
She is shocked,
I open the box and pull out a ring,
"Okay lets do this again...
Will you marry me Pardis Sarin?"
She starts crying uncontrollably,
"Did I do something wrong?"
I get concerned, I get up and hug her,
"Yes,"
I barely hear the word through the sobbing and the layer of clothes her face is stuffed into,
"To which one?"
"Both you idiot,"
We kiss under the oak tree as the stars twinkle.

I have told you of the delema I face with my mother and sister, in the perspective of my sister.
My mother is drawing near to the brink of suicidal thoughts,
All due to the conflictions with my sister, I continuesly blamed my mother, not knowing, not wanting to know my sisters role as the whipper to the whipped was.   But I am at a crossroads, I believe my sister, I believe my mother, but to fight for each other's approval is absurd.
The thing is that I am a person who strives to make things better, no matter the cost or the probability of success.
Right now the war at the peak,
My mother is praying to her god that she be hit by a semi.
While my sister revolts against society and destroys her future.
While I sit here uselessly in between the both of them pulling them away from the bridge of suicide.

I stand here alone,
Unable to speak,
My back turned pretending pride,
As my mother walks away,
My heart dies as I want to help her ,
But I keep walking,
My dam pride forcing me to step farther away,
I can't grasp control of my body,
What am I proud of,
Nothing,
I walking away achieves nothing,
So I turn around and let go of my pride,
"Mom,"
The tears that well in my eyes as she turns around,
"I'm so sorry mom, I..."
But she silences me as I am embraced by her body.

I am afraid of what the future holds,
There is no "live in the now"
Because that's what you do when your retired,
But as I mature in to an adult,
I find that I am afraid,
I am afraid of every single decision I make,
I am afraid of messing up,
I am afraid that there will be no one to tell me that it's okay,
I'm afraid not for what is happening,
I am afraid of what will happen.